


A Very Winchester Christmas

by MissScorp



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-22 08:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/pseuds/MissScorp
Summary: Holidays weren't something he and his brother tended to celebrate. Not like normal folks celebrated them, anyway. It was a pattern that started after Mom got killed. Dad mostly fell out of the habit of celebrating the holidays. Dean figured it was 'cause he couldn't bring himself to celebrate things that were about family. There's one Christmas that Dean recalls as he and Sammy search for a way to stop the world coming to an end that didn't end up a victim of the Winchester luck. It's the only really Merry Christmas he and his brother ever had with Dad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all, and Happy Holidays! Clearing up the legal, I don't own anything here but for my own original idea. The rest belongs to the wonderful folk behind Supernatural. I promise to return all characters in a slightly used but very happy condition.
> 
> Just as a matter of reference, you can loosely tie the current events happening in the opening and ending of this story to before the events of season 14x09. I'm fudging the timeline a little since it's not always easy to track down when events are happening but you can say that they happen somewhere before the events of the midseason finale. 
> 
> Please, if you like it, kudo/bookmark it!

Holidays weren't something he and his brother tended to celebrate. Not like normal folks celebrated them, anyway. It was a pattern that started after Mom got killed. Dad mostly fell out of the habit of celebrating the holidays. Dean figured it was 'cause he couldn't bring himself to celebrate things that were about family.

Not when their family got eviscerated by that yellow-eyed son of a bitch, Azazel.

They  _did_  manage to celebrate a couple of Christmases when they were kids. Dean recalled the Christmas with the plastic tree, stockings full of candy, footballs, and the plastic army men Sam stuck in the heater vents and ashtrays of Baby. And there was that one Christmas when Sam was eight. He got his most treasured item that year: his amulet.

Granted, he tossed the amulet away once in a fit of anger. Things were crazy then. They were trying to stop a bag of dicks from nuking the planet in some heavenly scheme to mold whatever survived into some freaking sorta Utopia. He took the amulet back once he discovered Sam had it. He didn't wear it around his neck as he used too, but it was never far from him.

The point was, life wasn't perfect.  _Dad_  wasn't perfect. Things weren't as bad as Sammy tended to make them sound, though. Sure, things like celebrating holidays weren't important unless they were somehow tied to whatever Dad was hunting.

Sure, if Dad wasn't off on a hunt or following some trail that might lead him to the thing that killed Mom, he was typically passed out in whatever cheap motel he parked them in.

And yeah, he was usually too drunk, beat up or tired to worry about things like cooking them holiday dinners or putting up decorations.

Dad did his best.

He wasn't the ideal father. Dean admitted that… now. He didn't do the normal stuff Dads did with their kids. He didn't play ball in the backyard, help them with homework, help build science fair projects or give those Ward Cleaver kinda talks. He wasn't the kind of father Dean often wanted or needed. He could recall plenty of times where he reached out to Dad for help or emotional support and he wasn't there for him.

There were plenty of times he reached out to Sam for the same things and his brother wasn't there for him, too.

Like those four years his brother spent at Stanford. Sammy didn't send one text, email or so much as one letter in all the time he attended the university. Dean suspected that if he hadn't gone to get his brother when he did, and Jess not have gotten killed like Mom that Sam would have graduated from Stanford, gotten married, and had kids without once letting him or Dad know.

Dean swallowed his bitterness along with the remaining ounces of beer at the bottom of the bottle he opened a few minutes ago. What good was there reminiscing about the past? Dad became the kind of father he felt they needed. The world they lived in wasn't a good one. Monsters were everywhere.

He did what he thought best to protect them.

_He taught us that family is everything,_ Dean thought as he tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket beside his bed _. He showed us that when it comes to family, you stop at nothing. You do what needs be done._

He and Sam had sacrificed themselves for the other plenty over the years.

Celebrating Christmas with Dad became something of a luxury when they were growing up. If they got lucky, and it wasn't often they did since Dad had a need to keep them close to him when they were really young, he'd leave them with Pastor Jim or Bobby for Christmas. Those were rare exceptions, though.

Christmas typically found him and Sammy digging into a box of Lucky Charms or splitting a can of SpaghettiOs that Dean would heat in either a microwave or on a stove.  _If we were lucky and the room had a microwave or stove_ , he thought as he stared up at the water-stained ceiling and listened to  _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ on the television.

Most often they were lucky if there was a fully stocked vending machine he could rip off. A smirk crooked his lips up at the corners as he remembered a few of his more profitable heists.  _Man, I used to make us a helluva snack mix out of pretzels, plain potato chips, and bags of peanut M &Ms._

There was one year where they got to celebrate both Thanksgiving and Christmas with Dad. It was the only time he could say with absolute certainty that the Winchesters enjoyed a real, happy Christmas. A smile curved his lips as the Grinch lamented, "And they'll feast, feast, feast, feast. They'll eat their Who-Pudding and rare Who-Roast Beast. But that's something I just cannot stand in the least…" in the background.

_I wonder if Sam remembers that Christmas_. He had only been four at the time. It was possible his brother had forgotten everything that happened that Christmas. He never mentioned it in all the times they discussed Christmas. Dad blacked out the entry he made in his journal about Christmas.  _For obvious reasons_ , he thought as the Grinch continued his tirade against the people of Whoville.

The last entry he made was dated November 2nd and was about Mom. About him asking what she looked like. Dad didn't have any pictures of her since everything they owned pretty much got destroyed the night of the fire. The only one with any recollection at all of what happened after the second was him.

They might not have celebrated either Thanksgiving or Christmas with Dad if not for everything that occurred the night before Thanksgiving and afterward. Wasn't like things started off weird. No, things were pretty normal really. Sure, Dad had to pick him up from school because he mouthed off to his teacher and got suspended for it. Wasn't like that was anything unusual.

Not that year, anyway.

Wasn't like he wouldn't have had to leave school early. Dad caught wind of a case up near Superior, Minnesota and packed them into the Impala to go and investigate it. They ended up in some motel outside Duluth. The post-hunt adrenaline that kept Dad going while he tracked down a skinwalker killing his former classmates for bullying him throughout high school had run out. He had needed to stop for a good night's sleep before they headed to either Bobby's or Pastor Jim's and the next hunt.

They got checked in just as a big snowstorm blew into the area. Dad left him and Sammy to check out the room while he used the phone to let Bobby know the skinwalker job was done. That was when Bobby told him about some strange stuff happening up at some old mansion recently converted into some fancy bed and breakfast. Guests of the place were drowning in Lake Superior. Officers were stumped. The usual jazz.

Of course, Dad agreed to look into it since they were close by. Said it sounded like a ghost or poltergeist. An easy enough job. Looking back, Dean still didn't see anything out of the ordinary about the job. Standard, salt and burn  _Lady What's Her Name's_  bones to put an end to her drowning people in the lake that surrounded the property.

Should have taken Dad a night to take care of things, tops. Hours' drive there, couple hours to dig up the old lady and take care of her remains, hours' drive back to their crappy motel.

Easy peasy.

Only, Bobby hadn't known who the old lady had selected as her last victim.

Or  _why_.


	2. Chapter 2

**1987**

It was colder than a witch's tit. Not that Dean actually knew how cold a witch's tit got. He just heard Dad muttering it as he scraped ice off the front windshield of the Impala yesterday morning and thought it sounded cool. Not that he had any plans whatsoever to utter the phrase in Dad's presence. That was just asking for trouble. He was still in hot water for telling Mrs. Goodman off.

Not that he didn't feel justified in telling the old crone off.

If she hadn't demanded he go up to the blackboard and solve that math problem he wouldn't have said she could piss off.

Only, he didn't say  _piss_.

The guy on the morning news said it'd start snowing again that afternoon. The first flurries started right after they got back from breakfast. A glance at the window showed it was snowing in earnest. Dean groaned internally. Seeing it was snowing would excite Sammy. He begged him and Dad to make snow angels that morning, but they told him no, it was too cold.

Not that it stopped him from repeating the request now.

"Dean, can we go make snow angels?"

"No." He heaved a long-suffering sigh and wondered if all little brothers were as obnoxious as his. "We gotta stay inside."

"Why?"

"Cause it's cold." Then, on a burst of inspiration, he added, "And 'cause Dad said so."

"But I wanna make snow angels!" Sammy turned his puppy dog eyes on him. "Please, Dean? Can we make snow angels?"

Dean wavered, like he typically did whenever his brother turned them big puppy dog eyes on him. He stopped himself from giving in right as Dad exited the bathroom, buttoning a flannel shirt over a white thermal.

"You know the drill," Dad said as he grabbed a container of rock salt off the table and tossed it into a black bag on the small table. "Anybody calls, you don't pick up. If it's me, I'll ring once, then call back. You got that?"

"Mm-hmm." He handed him an iron poker. "Here, you forgot this."

Dad placed it in the bag along with some iron rounds and some sorta device that measured paranormal activity. Dean didn't know how it worked but it sure looked cool as hell. Like something outta  _Star Trek_  or the  _Twilight Zone_.

"Now," Dad said. "What did I just say?"

Dean stifled the urge to roll his eyes. Last time he did that resulted in a smack to the back of his head and a stern lecture. They had gone over this stuff a million times before, though.

"Dad..."

"What did I just say, Dean?"

"Don't answer the phone." Dean hunched his shoulders and dug the tip of his sneaker into a hole in the threadbare carpet. "If it's you, you will let it ring once, hang up, and then call back."

"Don't get snotty." Dad glanced sharply at him. "This stuff's important."

"I know it's important." He stared down at the floor. "It's just... we've gone over this like a  _million_  times." He looked back up. Firmed his jaw. "I'm not a baby."

"I know you're not." Dad sat in a chair to pull on his boots. "But it only takes one mistake. Take your eye off Sammy for one second and he could..."

"Wander off," Dean finished for him. "I know, Dad."

He only heard  _that_  every day since Sammy walked right up to some guy at a rest stop. Dad read him the riot act for going up to a complete stranger and talking to him. He did too since it was his job to watch Sammy. It'd have been his butt if anything happened to him. Something he intended to make sure never happened. Dad wouldn't forgive him if something happened to Sammy.

No more than he'd forgive himself.

"All right, if I'm not back by tomorrow night...?"

"Call Bobby."

"Right." Dad zipped his bag shut. "Lock the door behind me." He stood. "Stay inside. Keep the curtains closed. And most importantly..."

They both looked over to where Sam sprawled on the second bed, watching cartoons on TV while coloring in the Scooby-Doo coloring book Dean swiped from the store down the road.

"Watch out for Sammy." He had only been told that about a  _billion_  times. "I know."

"Okay." Dad grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair. "What do you do if something or someone tries to break in?"

"Shoot first, ask questions later." They had only gone over that a  _trillion_  times. "C'mon, Dad, I'm not stupid. I know what to do."

Dad left then, leaving behind a blast of cold wind and a smattering of snowflakes. Dean locked the door as instructed and made sure to close the curtains before walking over and flopping face down on Dad's bed. Sammy thankfully alternated between coloring and watching television.

The next hour passed by in a haze. Dean paid scant attention to the cartoon playing on the television. Until he heard Charlie Brown talking about how he couldn't make a Thanksgiving dinner. His eyes strayed to the screen, his earlier protest about watching such a lame cartoon forgotten with his momentary curiosity. The words that resonated most with him were when Charlie Brown mentioned he couldn't make more than "cold cereal."

How many of their dinners consisted of cold cereal because Dad forgot to go shopping? How many times had they been forced to make do with one box of cereal and a few pieces of bread because Dad was gone longer than planned? Neither of them had ever had any sort of traditional kind of Thanksgiving dinner. Closest they got to Thanksgiving dinner was last year when Dad grabbed pumpkin pie and a bucket of chicken from Sandy's Chicken.

Buttered toast, pretzel sticks, popcorn, jelly beans, and an ice cream sundae would be a veritable feast for him and his brother.

Dean found himself wondering if they'd have had a real Thanksgiving dinner if Mom hadn't gotten killed. He liked to think they would have. The few memories he did have of Mom didn't involve her making a turkey.

The only dinner he could really remember her making consisted of meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. He also remembered her making him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich — without the crust because she knew how much he hated it — and giving him a piece of apple pie as a special treat.

Turkey and all the fixings? Nah uh, nope, no way.

He liked to think they'd have done all the things that normal families did if Mom hadn't been killed.  _She was making a big fuss about celebrating Sammy's first Christmas_ , he recalled as Sam giggled about something.  _Wanted us to get a big tree, hang up lots of decorations, and even take photos with Santa at the mall._

Everything changed the night whatever thing broke into their house and killed Mom. That was when Dad stopped smiling and laughing. When they stopped living in one place for more than a few days or weeks at a time.

When they stopped celebrating things like Thanksgiving and Christmas.

"Can we make snow angels now?" Sammy asked soon as Charlie Brown was over. "Please?"

Dean swallowed one of dad's  _choice_  phrases. Last time he let that particular word slip out resulted in his mouth getting washed out with soap by Mrs. McKinley. He never told Dad about what happened. He figured it was what he deserved for saying something she called "vile and nasty" out loud.

"You heard Dad say we have to stay inside." He looked over at him. "It's snowing, anyway."

"But I wanna play in the snow!" He looked so earnest, Dean thought, so hopeful that it almost made him want to give in. "Please, Dean?"

"Sorry, Sammy." He shook his head. "Dad said we gotta stay inside."

"But he wouldn't know!"

_Yeah, right,_  Dean thought. Dad seemed to always know when he screwed up. No way was he taking any chances. Not after he almost lost Sammy in the grocery store yesterday morning. Had that old lady not seen his brother walk out of the store with a guy in a black suit he might have been lost forever.

"No," he said, more firmly this time. "Now, watch Bugs Bunny and color in your coloring book."

Sam did so without any further complaint. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Well,  _almost_  uneventfully. Sammy complained he was, "Sick of scabetti-ohs" and demanded Lucky Charms for dinner, instead.

Dean gave in, simply not in the mood to argue with him about it. He was just getting the box of Lucky Charms out of the cabinet when there was a hard rap at the door. He froze, holding his breath, and waiting for the signal that said it was Dad. Sammy went to leap out of his chair, but Dean stopped him with a look.

"Gotta wait for the signal," he told him in a hushed whisper. "Remember?"

Sammy nodded and sunk back into his chair. Together, they waited. Two soft knocks got followed by one short one and then another three in rapid succession.

It was Dad.

Dean set the box of cereal on the table and moved to unlock the door. Dad came in with a burst of cold wind and snow. Sam ran to him before he managed to take four steps into the room.

"Dad!" He cried as he wrapped his arms around Dad's legs. "You're back early!"

A tired smile curved Dad's lips. "Hey, Sammy." He looked over at Dean, a silent question in his eyes. "Dean."

"Dad."

It was another of their codes. Dad silently asking,  _Did anything happen while I was gone_? And Dean replying,  _Nope_.

They came up with it after something Bobby called a  _crocotta_  tried to lure him out by pretending it was Mom. Bobby killed the thing by stabbing it in the back but not before Dean watched him unhinge his jaw to show his large, sharp teeth. It was the only time — outside the night Mom got killed — he ever saw Dad afraid. Really, truly  _afraid_.

Dean was about to ask how things went, but Sam gasped and blurted out, "Dad, who's that?" before he could.

_That_  was a girl about his age with lots of curly black hair, a ton of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and big gray eyes. Snow clung to her hair and parka. She hovered by the door, hands folded in front of her, and doing her best not to look like she was looking at them.

She didn't appear nervous, but Dean caught a slight tremble to her body that told him otherwise. Dean wondered why Dad brought her there. Was she in trouble? Had her folks gotten killed by  _Lady What's Her Name_? Before he could echo Sam's question, Dad spoke.

"Boys, this is Aydan." He moved towards the table, but as Sam still clung to one of his legs, it was more of an awkward shuffle. "She's gonna be staying with us for a few days."

Dean translated that as meaning she was in trouble and needed their help.

For Sam, it was explanation enough. He gave her a toothy grin from around Dad's leg. "You like Lucky Charms?"

She gave him a small, shy smile. "They're magically delicious."

Her voice had a musical sort of lilt to it. It reminded Dean of how some of the people talked in  _Darby O'Gill and the Little People._

Sam giggled. "You talk funny."

"I do, do I?" Dimples winked as her smile deepened. "Some people might say I sound like a leprechaun."

"Like Lucky?"

"Right-o, boyo."

Sammy's laughter eased the ball of tension in Dean's stomach. He edged closer, curious despite his every intention to not be. He didn't get many opportunities to talk with kids his own age. He saw no point in making friends with any of his classmates. Why should he? They could pack up and head to the next town in a week or a month. He spent more time being the new kid than he did anything else. The longest they spent living anywhere was during his second-grade year.

For a time, Dean imagined they'd stay. That they'd have a real home with a yard instead of a crappy motel or dingy one-room apartment. Dad would go to work, he'd join little league, and Sammy would start school. He believed this so much that he allowed himself to make friends with Roy Decker and Andrew Clarkson.

They left town his last day of school.

Aydan was the new kid this time. The outsider. The one who didn't belong. Only, she wasn't there by her own choice. Until Dad handed her off to her folks she was pretty much stuck with 'em.  _If she's got any folks_ , he amended silently. He didn't know what happened on Dad's hunting trip. Clearly, it was something that compelled him to bring Aydan back with him. He didn't dare ask what. Instead, he aimed a question at Aydan.

"You really from Ireland?"

Her eyes moved to him. Calm, curious, and still cautious. "Yes."

Dean was about to ask her where in Ireland she was from, but Sammy chose that moment to ask —  _demand_  was more like it — cereal.

"Sorry, Sammy," Dad replied. "We don't have time for cereal now."

"Why not?"

"We gotta get packed up so we can hit the road."

That was code for them needing to get outta town before the cops came to ask a bunch questions they weren't able to answer. Curious, Dean frowned. What happened that they needed to leave in such a hurry? He knew better than to ask. Sammy, of course, felt no such hesitation.

"Where we going?"

"Bobby's."

"Can we have Lucky Charms in the car?"

"How about we grab some burgers or a bucket of chicken on the way, instead?"

For Sammy, it was a more than fair compromise. His brother tended to roll with things pretty easily.  _Most often_ , Dean added silently as he turned to grab some plastic bags off the counter.

"Let's get things packed up." Dad unwound Sam from his leg and stood. "I wanna be on the road in half an hour."

…

_Dinner_  became whatever he and Aydan could grab in the gas station mini-mart while Dad gassed up the Impala. Dean opted to go the easy route by snatching up bags of potato chips, candy, and cupcakes while Aydan got milk, juice and a large coffee for Dad. She also grabbed some bananas, a loaf of white bread, and a package of bologna from the refrigeration section.

"What're you grabbing all that for?" Dean asked as he tried not to stare at the small triangles of pie on display. "The chips and doughnuts are enough."

"Sammy needs to eat more than potato chips and doughnuts." She reached for one of the packages of pie. "So does your dad."

Dean chose not to argue with her. He figured she was probably right.

"Who're you getting the pie for?"

"You." Her lips curved into a shy smile. "You wanted a piece but couldn't seem to decide on what one."

Dean found himself struck dumb. He really hadn't thought he gave away how much he wanted a piece of pie. Curious to see what kind she picked, he glanced over at the package. He couldn't see what kind it was since she placed it between the bread and bologna.

"What'd you get?"

"Apple."

_Apple_. His favorite. Not that she'd know that. Still, her thoughtfulness made him feel strange. Like he was special or something. Not that he was. Dean wasn't special.

He wasn't anything.

"C'mon," he said gruffly. "We got hurry up. Dad'll get mad if we aren't back by the time he finishes gassing up."

"Okay."

They carried their selections towards the front but stopped when they saw a man in a black suit talking to the guy behind the counter. A chill swept over Dean as he stared at the back of the man's head. Something about the guy didn't seem...  _right_.

If he was being honest, like deep down in the gut honest, he'd admit the dude creeped him out. He just didn't know why. He couldn't rightly explain what it was about the guy that was twisting his innards into knots.

Aydan must have also been freaked out because she edged closer to him and whispered, "I don't like that guy at the counter."

"Me either."

"I think we should get outta here."

"Yeah, I agree."

He just didn't know how they could leave without the man seeing them. Dean looked out to where Dad was setting the gas pump back in its holder. He prayed he'd glance in the direction of the store and figure out that something was wrong. That he needed to come and check on them.

_C'mon, Dad, look this way_ , he silently begged.  _Please, look this way_. Just as he started to think they'd get lucky, Sammy bounced out of the car, ending any possibility of Dad turning and looking at them. They were on their own, he realized, stomach curdling with dread.

They'd have to figure out a way to get outta there for themselves. Aydan stirred beside him.

"Should we try to make a run for it?"

Dean shook his head. "We'll get seen if we run."

People tended to notice when someone ran. They tended to wonder why that person was running. They'd try to stop that person, either offering to help them or asking questions that couldn't be answered. No, moving as silently as they could was crucial here. He had to do everything he could to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to himself and Aydan.

_And to Sammy and Dad_.

"Do you think we can sneak out without him seeing us?"

"Nope, don't think so." He indicated the round mirror hanging above the counter. "He'll spot us in that soon as we reach the door."

"What if we create a distraction?"

"A distraction?" It wasn't a bad idea. A good enough distraction just might keep the man busy long enough for them to make a hasty exit. The only question was what kinda distraction could they cause? He sent a look at her from the corner of his eye. "What sorta distraction you thinkin' 'bout?"

Aydan didn't reply. Dean imagined she was trying to think of something that'd work to distract the man long enough for them to make a break for the door. He swallowed one of Dad's choicest phrases when she started to…  _glow_. It was almost like a dozen lightbulbs got turned on beneath her skin. The pupils of her eyes went as dark as the paint on the Impala. She turned towards the man and mouthed something.

What? He didn't know. Before he could ask her what was going on, if she was okay, a shower of sparks and glass rained down on them from above. Instinct had Dean drop the stuff in his arms to cover his head. The man behind the counter began to swear violently as they got plunged into darkness. Cold fingers skimmed over Dean's flesh, prickling it.

He didn't have time to think, much less react as Aydan grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. He glanced at the man in black and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw that the eyes turned in their direction were  _yellow_. He started after them, but Aydan took that moment to launch the cup of coffee still in her hand, hitting him in the face and momentarily stunning him.

"Dean, c'mon!"

He hauled ass after her, slamming open the door of the grocery hard enough that the large bell hit the glass and cracked it.

Not that he cared.

"Dad!" he called as he and Aydan raced towards the Impala. "Dad!"

Dad swung around, Sammy in his arms, and a question forming in the depths of his eyes.

"Dean... what the..."

"Dad, we gotta go!" He waved a hand towards where the man in black was just exiting the mini-mart. "We gotta go now!"

Dad turned to look at the man, sizing him up, but seemed to think better about forcing a confrontation. He placed Sammy in the back seat of the Impala while barking, "Get in," at them.

Three seconds later they were tearing ass out of there, the man in black just a shadow in the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

The engine started to make an odd sorta sound, kinda like a high-pitched whine, thirty miles outside of Rochester, Minnesota. Dad limped her into a rest stop and spent the next hour alternating between slinging around a set of words that'd have given Mrs. McKinley a stroke if she'd been there to hear them and doing his best to fix whatever was making the noise.

Dean switched between getting him what tools he asked for and holding the flashlight so he could see while Aydan kept Sammy occupied in the car by singing to him. Dean tried to not act like he was listening but knew he'd been caught when Dad chuckled softly and said, "It's Gaelic."

Dean felt his cheeks grow warm and knew it had nothing to do with the cold slapping them. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head to keep Dad from seeing his embarrassment. "Sammy sure seems to like the sound of it."

"He likes it because he likes her." Dad looked up at him, a slight twinkle to his eye Dean had never seen before. "She's a kid. Like you."

"She's a  _girl_."

"Yeah, she is." Dad grinned. "One day you'll like girls."

"I like girls," he muttered, shooting a cross look at the one seated in the back seat with his brother. "Just don't understand 'em."

"Believe me, son." His grin stretched wider. "You'll never understand girls."

Dean didn't doubt it. He'd only known Aydan a few hours and she already had him twisted up in a bunch of knots.

"Dad..." He wiped snow off his face. "Why'd you bring Aydan back from your hunt with you?"

Dad pointed to a socket by Dean's right foot. "Hand me that." Dean assumed that was the only answer he was gonna get and let the matter jump. He figured no answer was better than the lecture he'd get for asking about things he didn't need to know about. Dad surprised him, though, when he said, "I think something or someone is trying to hurt her, Dean."

It was what he suspected. She was in trouble and needed help. Still, his brow furrowed.

"Who'd wanna hurt her? She's just a kid."

And  _why_  for that matter.

Dad simply shook his head and sighed before saying, "I don't know, Dean."

"But you think it's something bad."

_Like what killed Mom bad._

"Yeah, I do," Dad admitted with another small sigh. "That's why I brought her back with me. To keep her safe while I try to figure out who or what is after her." He looked up at him. "She needs someone to protect her, Dean. Like you and your brother."

"What about her mom and dad?" He frowned. "Where are they?"

Dad looked away from him.

"They're dead."

Just as Dean suspected.  _It's another connection between us and her_ , he realized, turning to look at where Aydan was laughing at something Sammy said. Only, they still had Dad.  _And Bobby_  and  _Pastor Jim_.

He didn't know if Aydan had anyone.  _She has us_ , he decided as he watched her. For as long as she remained with them, anyway.

"What're you gonna do?"

"For now, I'm gonna fix the car so we can get back on the road." Dad slid back beneath the car. "Now, shine that flashlight in here so I can see what'n hell I'm doing."

Dean did as instructed. Dad continued to try to fix the Impala but had to finally give up when the snow started to fall in earnest twenty minutes later. He rolled out from beneath the car with another choice phrase that'd have sent Mrs. McKinley to the hospital.  _Or the morgue_. Dean felt his lips twitch but refrained from smiling. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Dad that Mrs. McKinley having a heart attack would be just what the old crone deserved.

"You can't fix her, can you?"

"Not here, no." Dad knocked snow off his sleeves and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm gonna have to get her up on blocks and tear into her engine to figure out what her problem is."

"What're we gonna do?" He looked around the empty parking lot. "We can't stay here all night, can we?"

"Not ideally, no." He nodded to the car. "You get back in the car with your brother and Aydan."

"What about you?"

"I'm gonna try to find a phone."

"And call Bobby?"

"Yeah." Dad's breath steamed the air. "See if he can't give us a tow to his place."

Dean bent to pick up the tools and place them back in the toolbox as Dad wiped his hands on a rag. "What if he can't?"

"Then I'll wait until morning and call a tow truck." He handed him the rag. "Get her towed to a place in town so I can fix her."

Towed to a place in town meant spending a few days in some podunk city with a crappy motel and a greasy spoon to eat at. It wasn't like they had any choice, though. They couldn't go anywhere until Dad fixed the Impala.

"Dean, you're in charge while I'm gone. Same rules apply." Dad went around to the trunk. Dean followed and watched as he grabbed a handgun and some extra rounds from a case. He stuck them in the pocket of his jacket before taking the toolbox and setting it atop the case. He then slammed the lid before turning to him. "Something or someone comes up to the car that you don't trust..."

"Shoot first, ask questions later."

"And?"

"Make sure to watch out for Sammy."

"Not just Sammy, Dean." Dad nodded at Aydan. "You need to watch out for Aydan now, as well."

"I will, Dad. I promise." Same words he said a million times before. This time, though, he felt the weight of them deep down in his very soul. "I won't let anything happen. You know I won't."

"I know you won't." Dad handed him a bag with salt in it. "Do you remember what I showed you?"

"Pour it along the windows, across the dash, across the back of the seats." They'd gone over it at least a hundred times before. Dean, however, suspected Dad was being extra cautious after the incident at the gas station with the yellow-eyed man. He hadn't asked them about the man. Just got in the car and tore ass outta there. "And make sure the doors are locked and the windows rolled up tight."

Lock the doors, shut the windows, keep out the monsters while he was gone. Some days he felt like that was all he did. Dean was smart enough to realize that other kids didn't have the same responsibilities he did. They watched their younger siblings, sure. Some even made them lunch or dinner when their parents got busy. However, most of them didn't know that iron and salt kept ghosts and demons from attacking. They didn't know the monsters under their bed were real.  _Or have a Dad who hunts them and kills them._

"Keep an eye out, Dean. If you see that man from the mini-mart, I wanna know. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He came around to stand beside him. "You have enough ammo in case there's trouble?"

"Mhm."

He had a full cartridge in the .22 and enough in his pocket to hold off a small army. Something else kids his age didn't normally have. Dad nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"Get in the car." He waited until Dean opened the rear passenger door. "And make sure to keep Sammy wrapped up in that old blanket to keep him warm."

"I will."

Dean went to scramble into the backseat then but stopped when Aydan handed him her scarf.

"Give it to your dad," she said when he looked at the maroon scarf quizzically. "He's gonna need it."

A blast of cold wind down the back of his neck explained why he'd need it. Dean passed the scarf to Dad while doing his best to keep his teeth from chattering. He also didn't repeat what Dad said earlier. Nah uh, no way. Dad could say it was bitchin' cold out. Dean could say it and get the back of his head thumped for it. He'd learned  _that_  lesson the hard way.

"Thank you, Aydan." Dad wrapped the scarf around his neck and tucked the ends inside his jacket. "I'll give it back when I return.

"It's okay, Mr. Winchester." She offered a shy smile. "You can keep it. You need it more than I do."

Dad didn't smile but the lines on his face softened. If Dean hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he'd have believed he imagined it.  _Is she some sorta leprechaun or something_? He was starting to think so. Especially after what happened in that mini-mart.  _She did it_ , he thought as Dad set a hand on his shoulder.  _She made them lights explode_. There was no other explanation he could come up with.

Not that made any sense, anyway.

"Get in the car, Dean."

Dean scrambled into the backseat, accidentally jostling Sammy who issued a sleepy protest. Aydan quieted him by setting her hand on his back and murmuring softly.

"Lock the doors," Dad ordered. "And remember what I said."

"Yes, sir."

Dad disappeared into the darkness almost as soon as he turned away. Aydan and Dean shared a look over the top of Sammy's head. Their worry translated to silence. Dean heard the dry sifting of ice against the door of the Impala as tiny flakes of snow blew against the car. He made sure to lock all the doors and checked tha the windows were rolled up tight before settling back against the seat to wait for Dad to return.

"Dean?" Sammy's sleepy voice broke the quiet. "Where's Dad?"

"He's gone to find a phone."

"Why?"

"Cause he's gotta call Bobby."

"Why?"

"Cause something's wrong with the Impala, and Dad can't fix it here."

"Why?"

Dean swallowed one of Dad's other favorite phrases. It wasn't Sammy's fault. He was just a little kid, after all. He didn't understand what was going on. Dean couldn't help his frustration, though. His nerves were all in a jumble. Something bad was out there. He could feel it.

And he didn't like it.

"I want Dad." Sammy scrubbed at his eyes with his fists. "Go get him, Dean."

"I can't go get him."

"But I want him! Go get him, Dean!"

Sammy usually remained quiet when Dad was gone. There were times, though, where he got stubborn and refused to listen to anything he said.  _And now looks like one of those times_. Dean glanced at Aydan, silently beseeching her to help quiet him down. She gave a quick nod and ran a hand over Sammy's tousled hair.

"Want me to sing to you, Sammy?"

"Uh-huh." He laid his head against her arm. "Please?"

She did, much to Dean's relief. Sammy fell asleep again but only after Aydan sang the song five times in a row. Even Dean found himself lulled into a sleepy haze as he listened to her. Mom used to sing  _Hey Jude_  when he couldn't sleep. Dad told him it was her favorite Beatles song. Dean remembered other things as he listened to Aydan. Mom making him tomato-rice soup when he got sick. Her tucking him in and kissing his forehead before telling him, "angels are watching over you."

Aydan's song was a lullaby from some lame movie about a bunch of talking rodents. Sammy watched the VHS tape of it so much that it busted. Dad never looked more grateful in his life.

Secretly, he was, too.

Course, that didn't stop him from taking a copy from a video store. Sammy's joy at having the movie back far outweighed any of the guilt he felt for stealing it. Thankfully, he outgrew  _The Secret of N.I.M.H_  after a few more agonizing months of watching it nonstop. Thankfully, Thundercats became his next obsession. He and Dad could at least tolerate watching that.

Lately, his brother was into dinosaurs. Dean didn't mind watching that sorta stuff.  _Especially when they show the T-Rex_ , he thought as he stared out at the swirling snow. Aydan calling his name interrupted his musings.

"What?"

"Listen."

Dean did as she instructed. At first, he didn't hear anything but for the particles of ice bouncing off the Impala. He turned to tell her that but stopped when a low, bone-chilling howl pierced the silence.

The sound chilled him to the bone.

_What is that_? He wondered, brow furrowing.  _A wild dog? Wolf?_

Something told him it wasn't either of those.

Another howl sounded, closer this time, and far longer in duration. Dean wasn't sure whether it was just his skin that was cold or whether it was his blood freezing in his veins. His only thought was,  _Dad's out there!_

And he was alone.

He scanned the darkness, hoping to see Dad's familiar form cutting across the parking lot.

There was no sign of him.

"Do you smell it?" Aydan's voice was hardly a whisper. "Brimstone."

"Yeah, I smell it." He glanced at her. "What is it?"

Before she could reply, Dad was knocking on the window.

"Unlock the door, Dean."

Dean quickly did so. "Dad! Do you hear the..."

"Hellhound?" Dad said as he slid behind the wheel. "Yeah, I hear it, Dean."

"What're we gonna do?"

"We're gonna stay in the Impala until Bobby gets here."

"What if it tries to attack us?"

"She won't," Aydan whispered as another howl sounded. "She isn't here to attack you."

"She?" Dad twisted around to stare at Aydan. "How do you know the damn thing is female?"

"Cause I know her name." Aydan ducked her head to avoid Dad's piercing stare. "I know why she's here."

"Why?" Dad's tone was that drill sergeant one he used when he wanted him and Sammy to straighten up and fly right. Dean found himself squirming despite not being the one he spoke too. "Why is a hellhound here?"

"Cause of the man in black." She lifted her head to stare out the window. Dean wondered if she could see the hellhound. "Ramsey is here to make sure he stays away."

"Stays away? Stays away from who?"

"Me."

…

"If I had to take a guess about what he was," Bobby said once the Impala got loaded on a flatbed and they were heading back to his place. "I'd say demon."

"Demon?" Dad sent Bobby a long, speculative look from the corner of his eye. "You sure?"

"Not one hundred percent, no." Bobby glanced in his side mirror before changing lanes. "All I can go on is gut and mine is screamin' demon."

Dad mulled that over silently. "He was there." He turned to look out his window. "I saw him at Mulgrady Mansion."

"You sure it was the same man?"

"Yeah." Dad gave a short, almost imperceptible nod of his head. "I'm positive it was the same son of a bitch."

"You see him before or after you stopped the kid from walking into Lake Superior?"

"After I stopped her from walking into that water." Dad shifted to let Sammy rest more comfortably against him. "I looked up and saw him standing at the top of the stairs leading into the place. Same yellow-eyes the kids say they saw."

Dean jerked upright after hearing Aydanalmost  _walked_  into Lake Superior.  _Why'd she almost do something dumb like that_? He swung his gaze towards the opposite end of the seat. Her head rest against the window, her eyes closed. He guessed he'd have to wait until they got to Bobby's before he could ask her. He slumped down in his seat with a disgruntled sigh.

_Later_ , he vowed as he folded his arms across his chest and stared out the window at the world speeding by.  _I'll ask her about why she almost did it, later_. For now, he contented himself by listening to Dad and Bobby talk about the man in black.

"And he's the same fella the kids and you saw at that mini-mart?"

"Yes."

Bobby frowned as he stared out the front windshield. "Persistent cuss, that's for damn sure."

"Have you ever heard of a demon using a ghost?"

"I've read about it some." Bobby braked around a curve. "Had a few hunters even say they've encountered spirits who've told them they were being controlled by demons."

"Why?"

"Get them to do their dirty work for them most likely." Bobby side-eyed Dad. "You think this man in black was controlling Elizabeth Mulgrady? Having her drown people in Lake Superior?"

"It seems like it, yeah. My only question?" The lights of a passing car brightened the cab for a millisecond allowing Dean to see that Dad's expression in the glass was grim. "What the hell for?"

Dean wondered the same thing. Bobby's answer, though, didn't satisfy either his or Dad's curiosity.

"Could be part of some spell or ritual."

"A spell or ritual?" Dad frowned. "For what?"

"My guess is to open something."

"Open something?" The anger in Dad's voice was so intense that Dean sunk even further in his seat. He'd heard that tone enough to know that whoever was in serious trouble. "The son of a bitch was planning to sacrifice a kid so he could open something?"

"Yeah." Bobby glanced in the rearview mirror. "Explains why that hellhound showed up."

"To protect her?"

"What it sounds like to me."

"Are hellhounds protectors? I read they go after the souls of those whose deals are up."

"Lore is convoluted with lots of different theories." Bobby reached forward to turn the heat up another notch. "Most say hellhounds are omens of death. Some say they are assigned to guard the entrances of the dead."

"Like graveyards?"

"Or any place where lots of dead bodies are piled up."

"Like in Lake Superior." Dad released a weary sigh. "So, this thing could have been guarding the dead in Lake Superior and I set it free when I stopped Aydan from walking into the water."

"Maybe." Bobby glanced in the rear-view mirror. "But if you believe the tale about the Black Shuck, it accompanies women and acts as their protector." He jerked his head toward the back seat. "Kid definitely fits that bill if'n you ask me."

"Aydan did call it by a name."

"Yeah?" Bobby glanced at him. "What name she call it? Might help with tracking down information."

"Ramsey."

His brow furrowed. "Ramsey?"

"That's what she called it."

Bobby mulled that over for a moment. "Helluva name for a hellhound," he finally said. "Don't recall reading it in any of the things I've found about hellhounds."

"What I want to know is how she knows it." Dad ran a hand over the back of Sammy's head. "It's not something a kid should know."

"Only one way to find out how she knows it." Bobby side-eyed him. "We ask her."

"Later." Dad glanced back at her. "Let her sleep for now."


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was just rising in the east when Bobby made the turn into the Salvage Yard. The rays highlighted the cars, trucks, and assorted wrecks that surrounded the property. Dean felt excitement bubble beneath his skin as Bobby pulled to a stop in front of the repair shed and cut the engine. 

“We’re here,” he announced gruffly. “Everybody out.”

Dean clambered out of the truck, trying his best to not holler and whoop. Much as he liked being on the road, and with Dad, he hated being cooped up for long periods of time. He had to stay inside enough in his opinion. Teachers kept him chained to a desk when he was in school. Sitters made him stay in the house when it was too hot or cold out to play. And Dad ordered him and Sammy to stay inside whatever motel he parked them in before going off to hunt whatever monster attracted his attention. 

He liked when he and Sammy got to come and stay with Bobby. They could play hide-and-seek among the cars, dig for dinosaur remains or long-lost treasure, pretend they were cowboys or pirates or toss around a football in the front yard. Life was an adventure here. A place where they could do all the normal things that other kids their age got to do. They could pretend Dad was just away on a business or hunting trip, and Mom died in something like a car accident when they were here.   

Aydan looked around the yard with a mixture of intrigue and uncertainty on her face. Dean felt insult swell within him as he imagined what she must be thinking about the place. A Salvage Yard wasn’t a place for a girl. It was too dirty. She wouldn’t find it fun to crawl around under a bunch of old rusty cars.  _Or to pretend to dig around looking for dinosaur bones or the lost treasures of pirates._

“It’s a great place.” Defensive, Dean kicked at some dirt. “You’ll see.”

“I think it’s a great place.” 

He gaped at her. “You do?” 

“Yes.” She nodded. “I do.”

“Why?”

“It’s safe here.” 

Dean was about to ask her how she could tell it was safe when Dad exited the cab of the tow truck. 

“Dean,” he said while lifting a still sleepy Sammy out, “Come take your brother. I’m going to help Bobby unload the Impala.”

Dean instantly went and took his brother from him. His brother didn’t do more than issue a small protest. 

“It’s cold.”

“Cause it’s snowing, doofus.”

“Dean.” Dad sent him a stern look. “Don’t call your brother a doofus.”

Instantly contrite, Dean mumbled, “I’m sorry, sir,” and moved to stand beside Aydan. 

“You two take Sammy and go on into the house,” Bobby said as he started to unhook the Impala. “Your dad and I will be in soon as we’re done.”

They walked up the porch. Aydan opened the door and stepped aside so Dean could carry Sammy inside. He laid his brother on the couch while she wandered around the living room and studied the various books and things Bobby had stashed everywhere. Dean wondered what she was thinking. The clutter was comforting to him. It gave Bobby’s a lived in, homey sorta feeling. She stopped to look at some maps and photographs Bobby had tacked up on one wall. 

“Why’d you almost walk into the water?” 

He hadn’t meant to just blurt the question out like  _that_. He’d been figuring on waiting until they got settled in here at Bobby’s before he’d ask her about why she almost walked into Lake Superior. He chalked his impatience up to feeling as if he was dying from curiosity. 

“I don’t know why I almost walked into that lake,” she said without turning. “I don’t even know how I got there.” 

“You don’t know how you got to the lake?” 

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.” 

Dean frowned. “You think the man in black might somehow be involved in you getting there?”

“Yes.” She partly turned towards him. Her eyes, he saw, glowed like two quarters. “I think he works for my father.” 

“Your dad?” Dean scratched his nose. “I thought your dad is dead?”

“He’s not dead, Dean,” she said darkly. “I wish he was. It'd make things a lot easier for me and my family.”

Dean was about to her ask more but Bobby and Dad came walking into the room, ending the conversation. 

“You three want some breakfast?” Bobby asked. “Think I got some cereal and stuff.” 

“I can make breakfast, Mr. Singer.” Aydan blushed and folded her hands in front of her. “I really don’t mind cooking.”

Bobby hesitated, clearly surprised by the offer. 

“Yeah, sure.” He glanced at Dad, who just shrugged. “Go ahead.” 

...

She made pancakes. 

Not the frozen kind Bobby almost always had on hand or the light, fluffy, buttermilk kind he normally got when he and Sammy convinced Dad to stop at one of the greasy spoons they passed for breakfast. And they sure weren’t like those lead bombs Mrs. Guentherinsisted on making them every Sunday. 

_Even Dad couldn’t swallow them things without a mouthful of coffee to soften ‘em up._

Aydan’s pancakes looked thinner and flatter than any pancake he had ever eaten. Plus, she cooked them in butter which made them smell even better. Vanilla, cinnamon, and other tantalizing scents quickly filled the house. Dean found himself salivating before she even got the first pancake flipped onto a plate. 

Dean watched some old lady chef make pancakes like these on a cooking show once. They looked pretty fancy in his mind. Most of the places they ate at didn’t have anything like them on their menu. No, they served those kinda pancakes at bigger and fancier chains like IHOP or The Magic Pan. 

Paces that Dad refused to frequent.  

Dean watched as Aydan alternated between flipping pancakes and helping Sammy stir the trio of green apples she cut up and tossed into a pan with butter and cinnamon. 

“Never knew my kitchen could make anything that smelled that good,” Bobby commented as he and Dad sat in his living room. “Best I manage in there is burnt chili.” 

“You make grilled cheese sandwiches the way the boys like them.”

“How hard is it to toast bread and cheese?”

Dad grinned. “I always burn them when I make them.”

Bobby coughed to hide a chuckle. “Guess we’ll leave making pancakes to the kid, then.”

“What do you make of her?” Dad nodded towards Aydan. “Of what’s going on?”

“Beats the hell outta me, John.” Bobby slowly shook his head. “She seems like any other eight-year-old to me.”

“How many eight-year-olds have a hellhound for a guardian?”

“None that I know of.” 

Dean had a feeling nobody  _good_  had hellhounds for guardians. That’s why Aydan having one made no sense to him. Aydan didn’t strike him as a  _bad_  kid. He met enough of those kids in school to recognize one. He was one of the bad kids. He hoped Dad would ask Bobby more about hellhounds, but he changed the subject.

“Have you found out anything more about Elizabeth Mulgrady? Anything that suggests what she might have been into before her death? Or that might have gotten her summoned as a demon’s servant?”

“No.” Bobby got up to get a book off a shelf. “But I have done some looking into the hellhound lore. Found something that coincides with what the kid told you.”  

“Yeah?” Dad watched him. “What’s that?”

“There’s a story in this book of myths about four spirits, all female, who were created by God to guard the elements.”

“Elements?” Dad shook his head. “What elements?”

“Earth, air, wind and fire,” Bobby explained as he walked back to his desk. “The comic elements proposed to explain the nature and complexity of things like matter by breaking them into smaller substances.”

“Don’t the Chinese believe in five elements?”

“Metal and wood,” Bobby confirmed. “To them, the elements are different types of energy that are in constant interaction with one another.”

“Yin and Yang.”

“Basically.”

Dean scratched his nose as Sammy squealed about something in the kitchen. He understood what Bobby meant about earth, water, fire, and air. He’d learned about some of that in school. What he didn’t understand was how any of it related to Aydan. She wasn’t a spirit. Least not that Dean could tell, anyway. She certainly  _felt_  real when she grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the mini-mart. 

He turned his head to look at her. She was helping Sammy stand on a bench and stir the apples in the pan. She said something in that funny language he didn’t understand, making Sammy giggle. She looked just like a normal kid to him.  _But she made those lights explode,_ he thought as Aydan turned to flip another pancake onto a plate _. I know she did_.  _There’s no other explanation for ‘em blowing out like that._

None that made sense to him, anyway. 

“How does any of that fit into hellhound lore?”

Dean had wondered that himself but knew better than to ask. 

“Well.” Bobby flipped some pages in the book. “According to this, God assigned his most trusted angels to watch over and protect these women.”

“His most trusted angels?” One of Dad’s brows lifted. “As in harps and wings and halos?”

“As in his fiercest and strongest.” Bobby turned the book so Dad could see whatever was in those pages. “Archangels. The Navy SEALs of Heaven.”

Dad studied the page through slightly narrowed eyes. Then he looked over the top of the book at Bobby.

“You’re telling me that angels are real.” Even Dean didn’t believe they were. “C’mon, Bobby. Even you gotta know there’s no such thing as angels. Not that any hunters have encountered, anyway.”

“You didn’t think vampires were real until you met Elkins.” 

They didn’t think monsters were real until the thing killed Mom. Dean didn’t say that out loud. It’d just earn him a look and being told to go help in the kitchen. He didn’t want to get sent into the kitchen. Not when Dad and Bobby were discussing things that actually interested him. 

“I didn’t think any of this was real until that thing broke into my house and killed Mary.” Dad ran a hand over his face. “But you were saying?”

Bobby set the book on the desk in front of him. “Take a look at who one of the angels assigned to one of the guardians is said to have been.”

Dad’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he looked down at where Bobby pointed. Dean wished he could see what Bobby was pointing too. Especially when Dad lifted wide eyes to his and rasped, “Are you shitting me?”

“Fraid not.” Bobby shut the book. “And it gets worse.”

“Lemme guess.” Dad reached for his mug of coffee. “He’s got a hellhound?” 

“Care to guess what its damn name is?”

“Ramsey.” 

“Earned yourself a beer.”

Dad blew out a heavy breath. “Why would he send a hellhound to protect Aydan?”

“Well.” Bobby looked at where Aydan was showing Sammy how to make the pancakes. “I’d say it’s cause the kid’s a descendant of the guardian he was charged with protecting.” 

“What guardian was he supposed to protect?” Dad indicated the book with a nod. “Book give you any clue?”

“Says that God entrusted the care of the guardian of fire to his most trusted son.”

Dean wondered who that son was. From the troubled looks on their faces, it wasn’t anyone good. Before Bobby could elaborate further, Aydan called them in for breakfast. Dean forgot about angels, demons, and all that hoopla. He shot off the ground like a rocket and went to sprint into the kitchen but Dad’s hand on his arm detained him. 

“Slow down, Dean.” There was a speckle of humor — a true rarity — in Dad’s tone. A glance at his face showed him he was smiling. “The pancakes’ll still be there if you take an extra thirty seconds to get to the table.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Dean walked into the kitchen at a much more sedate pace. He slid into a chair and stared at the plate in front of him. Instead of leaving the pancakes flat and stacking them one on top of the other, Aydan folded them into triangles. She then set them atop the slices of apple and drizzled syrup over the top. 

“Thank you, Aydan,” Dad said as he took a seat. “This looks good.”

“I helped!” Sam announced with a toothy grin. “I helped, Dad!”

“I saw, Sammy.” Dad smiled. “You were a good helper.”

Aydan poured milk for him and Sammy and coffee for Bobby and Dad. 

“Eat, please.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Soon as that first bite of syrupy pancake and cinnamon apple hit his tongue, Dean thought he died and went to Heaven. It was like having apple pie for breakfast but better. He stuffed himself until he thought he was gonna explode. Sammy sat back once he finished and rubbed his belly. 

“I’ma turn into a pancake.” 

“That’s why there were apples underneath the pancakes,” Aydan teased as she started to stack the plates. “They keep little boys like you from turning into a pancake.”

Sammy giggled. “You’re silly.”

“And you’ve got syrup all over your face,” Dad said as he pushed to his feet. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s get you cleaned up so you won’t stick to the furniture.”

“‘Kay.”

Dad swung Sammy up into his arms and carried him to the sink.

“You looking for a job?” Bobby asked while Dad washed the syrup off Sammy’s face and hands. “If you are, I’m hiring. Pay’s lousy but the coffee’s free.”

Aydan smiled at him. “Make it tea and you’ve got a deal.”

“Tea it is.”

Dean helped her carry the plates over to the sink once Dad finished cleaning up Sammy. “Where’d you learn to make pancakes like that?” 

“From my auntie Raelin.” She turned on the faucet and squirted soap onto a rag as Dean returned to his seat. “She says the best way to make a good first impression is by making pancakes.”

“Smart woman.” Bobby looked at Dad who gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “Where does your aunt live?” 

“New Orleans.” She set the plate into the strainer after rinsing it. “She owns a restaurant in the Quarter with my aunts Moira and Brigid.”

“Why were you in Minnesota?” Bobby set his mug on the table. “Long way from Louisiana.”

She picked up another plate and started to wash it. “I was visiting my uncles Colin and Jamie in New York for Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving ain’t until tomorrow, though.” Dean hadn’t meant to say that out loud. It just sorta slipped out. As expected, it earned him a stern look from Dad. He slunk down in his seat and mumbled, “I was just askin’ why she was celebratin’ early is all.” 

Since he’d never celebrated the holiday at all. His familiarity with the holidays was next to non-existent. He didn’t say that out loud. It guaranteed a lecture he didn’t want to have. Not in front of Aydan. 

“My uncles Colin and Jamie are spending the actual holiday with family in California. Uncle Jamie is from Los Angeles,” she explained when Dean looked at her quizzically. “They alternate spending the holidays with his family and ours.”

Dean didn’t know what to say other than a lame, “Oh.” 

Thankfully, Bobby was there to take the focus off him. 

“And you were returning home when...?”

“They announced my flight was getting diverted because of a severe storm in Ohio.” 

Bobby frowned at that. “Storm? There weren’t no storms. Least none that I heard of.”

Since he tended to keep his eyes and ears on that sorts of stuff, Dean didn’t doubt him. However, he didn’t doubt Aydan, either. She wouldn’t be there with them if there wasn’t some reason behind it. They just didn't know what that reason was. Not yet, anyway.  _Dad and Bobby will get it figured out, though_. 

“That’s what the pilot announced.” 

She rinsed the plate and set it beside the other ones in the strainer. Dad caught his eye and looked pointedly at the dishes drying in the strainer. Dean got the hint and got up to help dry them. He’d pushed his luck by blurting out his earlier question. No way was he gonna refuse to dry a couple of dishes. Aydan exchanged a look with him as she set another plate in the strainer but didn’t say anything.  _Thankfully_. 

“Why would he lie about there being a storm, Mr. Singer?”

“Maybe ‘cause he wasn’t human.”

Aydan stopped washing the plate she held and stared out the window. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

“Why?”

“Cause it means my father is trying to use me.” 

“Use you for what?”

“To break the last seal on the cage containing a being who could throw the world into chaos if they get released.” 

“Lucifer?” 

Dean held his breath as he waited for her to answer. 

“No, it’s not Lucifer.” She rinsed the last plate and set it in the strainer. “Lucifer wants this man kept in his cage as much as the rest of us.”

“Why?” 

“Because this person getting free is bad.” She picked up the pan she used to make the apples. “Auntie Raelin said his getting free would upset the balance. The balance must always be protected. Otherwise, there is chaos.”

Bobby accepted that with a nod. 

“Did he send his hellhound to protect you?”

Aydan hesitated, and Dean could see her chewing on her lower lip. Then she resumed washing the pan and said quietly, “Yes.” She handed the pan to him after she finished rinsing it. “Ramsey has protected me since I was born.” She wrung the rag out. “It’s her job to protect me.”

“Why’s it her job to protect you?” Dad asked. “Isn’t it his?”

“Ramsey protects the guardian of fire in his absence.” She rinsed the rag before wiping the counters and the sink with it. “And if she dies...” She paused, clearly struggling to find the words to explain. “Well, it’s like Heaven’s version of the Bat-signal.”

“Meaning it tells the other archangels there’s trouble,” Bobby said. “And to get their asses down here.”

She nodded. “Yes.” 

“Why do they need your blood to break this seal?”

“Because only the blood of the guardian who locked him away can break the seal and free him.” 

“Hell’s bells,” Bobby announced, startling Dean who almost dropped the plate he was drying. He swung his head around to look at him. Dad was staring at him, too, a look of surprise on his face. 

Only Sammy was oblivious to what was going on. He slid off Dad’s lap and went into the front room. Dad let him go without giving the usual admonishment to not touch anything. 

“What is it, Bobby?” 

Bobby nodded towards Aydan. “She ain’t just the descendant of one of the guardians.” 

“She’s not?” Dad frowned his confusion. “Then what is she?”

“She  _is_  the damn guardian.”

…

Dad called Aydan’s aunt once they finished the dishes. Dean didn’t know what all got said as Bobby sent him — much to his displeasure — upstairs with Sammy. The only thing he knew was that they decided that until things could be figured out that Aydan was safer staying at Bobby’s. 

Dean supposed it made sense. Aydan had been returning home when something funny happened to her plane. If Dad hadn’t been there to stop her from walking into Lake Superior, the world mighta got boned.  _If that hellhound hadn’t shown up while he was gone._.. Dad slamming the hood of the Impala interrupted his musings. 

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her.” Bobby wiped his hands on a rag. “Not that I can find, anyway.”

“I’m telling you she was acting like she was about to throw a piston or something.” Dad ran a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s why I got her off the road. Didn’t want the engine going to shit in the middle of nowhere.”

“I dunno what to tell you, John.” Bobby squinted as he studied the car. “She’s purring like a kitten now.”

“How often have you had an engine start making odd noises that just go away after a few hours?”

“Never.” 

“Exactly.” Dad reached in and turned off the key. “It makes no sense.”

“Well.” Bobby glanced towards the house. “It does if you consider things from a certain perspective.” 

Dad followed his gaze. “You think Aydan did something to the car?” He scoffed. “C’mon, Bobby. She’s just a kid.”

“She’s not just some kid,” Bobby pointed out. “She’s a guardian. Kid could level this place if she had a mind too.”

Dean wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t, but Dad spoke before he could. 

“She wouldn't do that, Bobby.” 

“Hell, I know that.” Bobby tossed the rag onto a pile of others. “Just saying she could.” 

_Like she could make those lightbulbs explode_ , Dean thought as he quietly picked up the tools Dad and Bobby used and returned them to the shed. 

“I don’t think she did anything to the Impala.” 

Dean didn’t think she did, either.

“My guess?” Bobby reached for the beer he placed on the fender before he and Dad got to work. “Whoever diverted that plane she was on caused whatever noise in your engine.” 

Dad picked up a toolbox and placed it back on a work table. “Do you think they did it to get me out of the way?” 

“Yeah, I do.” Bobby took a swallow of beer. “You’re standing between them and her, John. They’re gonna do whatever to get her away from you. That includes killing you, me, and the boys.” 

Dad glanced over his shoulder at where Dean was pretending he was picking up the rest of the tools and not at all paying attention to the conversation. “What do I do then, Bobby? I got the boys to worry about.”

“I dunno, John.”  Bobby’s face was grim. “All I know is a storm is coming and you and the boys? You’re smack dab in the middle of it.” 

**A/N:** Hello, all, and Happy Holidays!

Just want to thank Kathy for her lovely review! It really brightened a cold and dreary day!

 


	5. Chapter 5

Breakfast the next morning was scrambled eggs, pan roasted potatoes that made him sigh, fresh-baked biscuits that melted in his mouth, and crispy fried bacon. Dean didn’t know where his good fortune came from. It was a rarity they got to eat real home cooking like this. Greasy spoons, burgers or buckets of chicken, microwavable stuff they grabbed in minimarts or at grocery stores, cereal, and sandwiches summed up the majority of what they ate. 

Sometimes, if they stayed in a place long enough, Dad would make what he called his “cure-all kitchen sink stew.” Sammy refused to eat it and would ask for cereal instead because of how hot Dad liked to make it.   


Dean ate it without any complaints. 

He shoveled whatever got placed in front of him. He learned to eat when food was available. He also went without sometimes so that Sammy had a full belly. Making sure his brother was taken care of was first and foremost. 

Nothing else mattered to him.   


Just Sammy’s happiness and well-being. 

However, he wouldn’t mind if his good fortune could continue for as long as Aydan stayed with them. Especially if it included things like pancakes and those roasted potatoes. 

Aydan decided to stay in the kitchen after breakfast. Why, Dean didn’t know. Breakfast was done, over with. The dishes were back in the cabinet and the pans all put away. Even the counters, stove and table had all been wiped clean. There was no need to worry about food again until that evening. 

“Boys, you go upstairs while Aydan is busy in here.”

“Why’re you staying in the kitchen?” That made no sense to him. “Breakfast is over.”

“I know,” Aydan said as she after putting the last of the silverware back in the drawer. “But there’s something I wanna do in here.”

“What?” 

“You’ll see,” was all she’d say. "I promise you'll like it."

Sam protested being kicked out of the kitchen by loudly stating, “I wanna stay and help!”  

Aydan tried to quiet him by promising he could help her later. “You can help me make a pie for after dinner. Okay?”

The only word that registered for Dean was:  _pie_. 

He desperately wanted to ask her what kinda pie she was gonna make but Sammy continued complaining until Dad stepped in and put a stop to it. 

“Enough, Sammy.” 

Sammy flopped down in his seat with a soft, “Sorry.”

Dad reached over to ruffle his hair.

“I understand you want to stay and help. Aydan has said you can later. Okay?”

Sammy nodded. “Okay.” 

“Well, we’ll leave you to things.” Bobby got to his feet and pushed in his chair. “Got a couple of errands to run.” 

“I’ll go with you.” Dad drained the last of his coffee in one long swallow. “Want to check a few things.”  

Dean translated that to mean they were going to take a look around for anything out of the ordinary.  _Like the man in black._

“Sounds good.” Bobby glanced at him. “You okay staying here and watching over things while me and your dad are gone?” 

Dean nodded. “Yup.” 

“Here, Sammy.” Dad swung him up into his arms. “You can come with me and Bobby to get a few supplies at the store.”

Dean wondered what kinda supplies he and Bobby were going into town for. Bobby had plenty of salt, iron, and anything else that’d keep the man in black away.  _So, what’re they after_? He didn’t ask, however. He didn’t want to spoil the reasonably good mood Dad was in. Such moods were a rarity. Another thing Dean learned to enjoy when they happened because of how scarce they could be. 

Dad started to joke and smile less after Mom died. Sammy tended to coax out a rare smile. Especially if he said or did something that made Dad proud. It was understandable, though. Sammy was a little kid. His infectious enthusiasm for stuff tended to make everyone smile. 

He didn’t have the reputation Dean did. People didn’t call his brother that Winchester boy. Or John’s son. Or call him Dean’s little brother. People liked Sammy. They thought he was cute and adorable. Parents allowed Sammy around their kids. They invited him to sleepovers and parties. 

Not that he got to attend any of them, of course. Dad couldn't let his brother out of his sight for that long. Dean understood why. If something tried to attack Sammy while he was at someone's house, Dad couldn't protect him.  _And I wouldn't be there to take care of things, either_. Sammy'd be defenseless and alone. Something they couldn't allow.  _Ever_.

“You can help get marshmallows,” Dad told him. “How about that?”

“Okay!” Sammy gave him a toothy grin. “Aren’t Dean and Aydan coming with us?”

“No, they’re going to stay here and keep an eye on the place for Bobby.” 

Dean translated that bit of Dad-code as  _something is after Aydan and she’s safest here_. Not that he didn’t agree with Dad. Whoever the man in black was, he was definitely bad news. Aydan couldn’t get hurt so long as she remained at Bobby’s. Here, she was safe. Dad and Bobby would make sure of it.

“Dean,” Dad interrupted his musing by saying. “What’re you to do while we’re gone?” 

“Stay inside, stay away from the windows, don’t answer the phone,” he replied automatically.  _Watch out for Aydan_ , he added silently. “I know what to do, Dad. Promise.”

He had only been taking care of things for the last few years now. He didn’t say that part out loud. He was pretty sure it’d earn him a whack to the back of the head and a stern lecture. 

“Don’t either of you answer the door while we’re gone,” Bobby said as he grabbed his keys off the hook by the door. “If me or your dad do call, we’ll let it ring twice, and hang up before calling back.” 

Dean just nodded. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a jazillion times before. 

“You see or hear anything out of the ordinary.” Dad looked pointedly at him before he walked to the door. “You know what to do, Dean.” 

“Yeah, Dad.” He patted his pocket. “I know what to do.”

Dad nodded, satisfied with his answer.  

“Lock the door behind us.”

“Will do.” 

They left then, Sammy chattering away happily. Dean turned to look at Aydan. 

“You really gonna make a pie?” 

“Mhm.” She nodded. “That’s why I’m staying in the kitchen. I’m gonna make the crusts ahead of time.” 

“Crusts?” One brow lifted. “You gonna make more than one pie?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?” 

Her smile teased out her dimples. “What’s Thanksgiving without two pies to pick from?” 

He never celebrated Thanksgiving before so he didn’t have any clue what it was like without pies. Thanksgiving was just another day of the week to him. He didn’t tell Aydan that, though. He wasn’t comfortable telling her he had never celebrated Thanksgiving. Such an admission made him feel weak, pathetic. Like he was being a baby. No, it was better to focus on the fact she was making pies to go with whatever they’d eat for dinner. 

“What kinda pies you gonna make?” 

He hoped for apple but wouldn’t mind cherry, blackberry or even peach. 

“Pumpkin and apple.”

It took every ounce of restraint he had to  _not_  run about the room whooping and hollering. Thanksgiving dinner and pies?

Christmas had come early for Dean. 

His minor celebration ended when there came the long howl of what was not a wolf outside. Dean edged over to the window and peeked outside. A black mist like substance slid across the ground towards the house. 

“We need to go to the basement.” 

Where Bobby kept all sorts of weapons and things that might prove useful. Aydan shook her head as she joined him at the window.

“Ramsey will stop them before they reach the house.”

There was a sound, more scream than howl. Something black oozed onto the ground, sizzling into it like hot lava. Dean didn’t have any clue what it was and wasn’t about to go out there and find out. Dad would have his hide if he did. The mist vanished. All that remained was a long, ugly scar etched into the dirt and the lone howl of a hellhound as it stood watch.

...

The smells that came from the kitchen had his mouth watering. He didn’t know what Aydan was making but it definitely smelled awesome. One thing was for certain, it was gonna be better than cereal or SpaghettiOs. 

Plus, there were two kinds of pie to look forward too. 

Really, the pies were all he cared about. They could have cheese and crackers or toast and canned alphabet soup long as there was pie for afterward. 

“Dean, read me a story.” 

Dean glanced at the title of the book Sammy clutched to his chest and inwardly groaned.  _The Berenstain Bears Meet Santa Bear._ Well, at least it wasn’t  _The Berenstain Bears’ Christmas Tree._ He read that one to Sammy about thirty gazillion times. 

“I’ve read you that story three times already.” 

“Read it again.” Sammy blinked his eyes wide. “Please?” 

Dean gave in since he really didn’t have any other choice. Dad and Bobby kicked him and Sammy out of the kitchen so they could talk with Aydan about what happened with the hellhound and the dark mist. Not that she could offer any more information than he did. 

Dad also called Aydan’s aunt, wanting to not only keep her informed about what was going on with her niece but also to figure out what to do next. He tried to listen to the conversation, but Sammy made it impossible by requesting he read to him. He was just finishing the book when Dad came into the living room, looking grim and a little haggard. 

“Dad?” He set the book down and got to his feet. “Dad, what is it?”

“Aydan’s uncles Colin and Jamie never made it to California.” He took a seat on the couch with a sigh. “And her grandmother, as well as a few of her cousins have also gone missing.”

_Missing as in likely dead_. Dean didn’t need a degree in hunting to know that was what Dad meant. Disbelief washed over him in icy waves. His belly cramped, and his hands shook. Part of him hurt because he knew Aydan was hurting. How couldn’t she be? It was her family missing, gone.  _Just like Mom’s gone._

“What happened to ‘em?” 

Dad shook his head as he picked up Sammy and set him in his lap. “I dunno, Dean.” He ran a hand over the back of Sammy’s head. “Aydan’s aunt doesn’t know what happened. Police are still investigating.”

Just like they investigated Mom’s death but couldn’t find anything. 

“Do you think it’s the man in black?”  


“No,” Dad said. “We think it’s Aydan’s father.”

“Her father?” Confusion filled Dean. “Why?”

“Because he’s trying to kill all the guardians in order to bring on some sort of apocalypse.”  


Dean didn’t have to ask why.   


He knew why.   


“You’re not gonna let him get Aydan, right?”   


“We’re gonna do our best to keep her safe, Dean.” Dad released another sigh. “To do that, though, we’re gonna need your help.”

“Yeah, Dad, sure,” Dean said automatically. “Whatever you need. You know that.”   


It wasn’t like Dad even had to ask for his help. He told him to watch out for Aydan like he did Sammy. Dean planned on doing just that. 

“I do, Dean.” Dad looked at him from over the top of Sammy’s head. Dean saw something — Pain? Regret? Guilt? — flicker in his eyes. Like last time, it was gone before Dean could be absolutely certain he actually saw it. “C’mon, let’s go eat. Aydan made dinner special for us and doesn’t want what’s happened to spoil it.”

“Isn’t it wrong, though?” At Dad’s questioning look, he explained. “To celebrate? Isn’t it wrong to celebrate with everything going on with her family?”

“It’s not wrong to give thanks for friendship.” Dad stood, swinging Sammy up into his arms. “Just as it’s not wrong to celebrate family. That’s what Thanksgiving is about. Being thankful for what you have and sharing it with others.” 

“But they’re...” 

“Aydan wants to celebrate the lives of her missing family instead of grieve for them.” Dad set a hand on his shoulder. “And we’re gonna let her, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

...

Aydan, with the help of Bobby and Dad, prepared a feast. Dean had only seen this much food on television. Mashed potatoes whipped to creamy perfection, yams with marshmallows lightly melted over the top, buttery green peas, stuffing, flaky rolls, and a glistening turkey graced the small table. It was unlike anything Dean ever imagined. He sat in his chair, staring at each dish, and doing his best not to drool. The pies Aydan promised cooled on the counter as they ate. 

The dark cloud cast over the day didn’t lessen anyone’s enjoyment of dinner. Aydan spoke liberally about her grandmother, uncles, and cousins throughout dinner, sharing little things that she said best defined them as people. He could tell by the way she spoke about them, the slight tremble to her voice when she recalled a particular moment with them that she loved them. Missed them. 

Rather than focusing on sadness or anger, like Dad, she celebrated her lost family members. Honored them by remembering they lived and loved. Were happy. 

Dean found himself a little bit envious. 

How different would his and Sammy’s lives be if they had grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins? Would Dad be different if there was family there to help him after Mom died? Would he have become a hunter if there had been family there to stop him? To remind him that there was more to life than hunting down the monster responsible for killing Mom? To tell him life was for the living? 

The only answer that came back was...  _maybe_. 

Maybe led him to wonder if they’d have a home with a big yard they could run around in. Maybe Dad would have built them that treehouse or fort he promised he’d build after Sammy got bigger. Maybe he’d get to attend the same school for more than one school year. Make friends that’d last a lifetime. Maybe he’d get to play on the same little league and take karate lessons. 

Would they be a normal family?  _Well, as normal as any family who wasn’t the Cosby’s_ , he amended as he watched Sammy drawing a horse on a piece of paper Bobby gave him. What he called a  _horse_ , anyway. Dean had never seen a horse like it before.  _Even those My Little Pony things don’t look like that..._ He didn’t correct his brother, though. Way he saw it? If Sammy wanted to draw purple horses with yellow manes and orange tails, so be it. Who was he to judge? 

“That’s a pretty horse,” Aydan told Sammy as she joined them. “Is it magical?”

Sammy nodded. “It’s a unicorn.” 

“Where’s it horn?” 

“It was taken.” 

“Taken?” Aydan sat on the floor next to him. “Taken by who?”

Sammy selected a red crayon and started to draw red slashes on its hindquarters. “A man.”

“What man?” 

“A man with yellow eyes.” 

The only yellow-eyed man they knew was the man in black. Dean’s eyes met Aydan’s. He noted the alarm in her eyes. It matched the unease burning in his gut. Sammy remained oblivious to it, though. Dean set the comic he had been pretending to read down and scooted closer to his brother.   

“Have you seen a man with yellow eyes, Sammy?” He tried to stay nonchalant. To act like he wasn’t overly interested in the answer. He did it so that Sammy didn’t detect the fear pulsing beneath his skin. “Was he wearing a black suit? Like the Blues Brothers?”

“Yup.” Sammy smiled at him. “But he can’t sing or dance.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. Sammy spoke to the man. A stranger. Something he and Dad told him repeatedly he wasn’t supposed to do. 

“When did he tell you this?”

“Earlier.”

Dean thought he was gonna be sick. He feared if he opened his mouth that the bile’d spew out over Sammy and Aydan. He forced it back with a strength of will he didn’t know he possessed to ask Sammy another question he feared the answer too. 

“Where’d you see him?” 

“Outside the hardware store.” 

Sweat ran cold and clammy over his skin, and he smelled his own fear. He pushed it aside, focused on Sammy, and on what was best for him. Keeping his brother safe was all that mattered. It was his job, after all. It had been since the night Mom died. 

“Did Dad see him? Or Bobby?”

“No.” Sammy changed out the red crayon for a green one. “They were busy.” 

Aydan picked up a brown crayon and started to color beneath the horse’s hooves. “Did the yellow-eyed man say anything to you?” 

“Mhm.” Sammy nodded. “He said he’d see me tonight.” 

“Tonight?” She looked at Dean. “Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.” Sammy smiled. “He’s gonna bring me a present.” 

It was hard to swallow around the lump in his throat. Harder even for him to ask, “What kinda present?” 

“I don’t know.” Sammy shrugged. “He said it’s a surprise.”

_A surprise_. Dean didn’t have to imagine what kind of surprise.  _Gotta tell Dad and Bobby. They gotta know so they can stop it._ He got to his feet. 

“Stay here.” His tone was that stern one Dad used when he was serious. “Watch out for Sammy.”

It was what Dad said to him all the time. Keep Sammy safe. It was up to him. He was his big brother. Nothing else mattered so long as his brother was safe and happy. Aydan seemed to grasp that because she nodded. 

“What’re you going to do?”

“Get Dad and Bobby.” 

He didn’t need to tell her why. The lone howl in the distance was enough of a reminder. Dean walked from the room at a leisurely pace. Only when he was out of Sammy’s eyesight did he start to run. 

…

Dad and Bobby parked them in the living room while they kept watch. Dean had the .22 in his pocket and an extra box of ammunition in the bookcase should he need it. Everyone — save for Sammy, who happily watched ALF — was on edge. The occasional howl, growl, snort or scent of brimstone didn’t help lower anyone’s anxiety levels. 

Dean paid scant attention to the television. Much as he liked ALF, making sure that the man in black stayed away from Sammy took precedence over ALF on a road trip to San Diego. He didn’t even notice when the show ended, and Valerie's Family began. His attention was on Dad as he and Bobby spoke quietly in the hall. Dad glanced at him before heading upstairs with a bag of salt. Dean understood what he said without saying it:  _stay in there and watch over Sammy_. 

Not like he planned to go anywhere.   


A knock sounded on the front door. Dean jumped, as did Aydan. Together, they looked at Bobby, who stared down the hall through narrowed eyes. 

“You two stay there and watch over Sam,” he said gruffly. “Anything happens, you head for the basement. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison. 

Bobby disappeared down the hall. The door opened a few seconds later. The cold swept through the house. Dean repressed a shiver and tried to listen to what was being said between Bobby and the person at the door. All he could make out was a name: Remi Black. Dean frowned.  _Black_  was Aydan’s last name. Could the guy at the door be related to her?  _Only one way to find out_ , he realized. 

“You got an uncle named Remi?”

“Yes.” She looked at him, a questioning look on her face. “Why?”

He nodded towards the hall. 

“Heard the guy at the front door say it.”

Aydan made a soft speculative sound deep in her throat. 

“Uncle Remus is my father’s brother.” 

“Who wants to use you to open some cage?”

“Yes.” She nodded. "He does."

“Why’s your uncle here then?”

“I don’t know.” Her brow puckered. “Maybe aunt Raelin or Moira sent him.” She looked towards the hall. “He sends me cards and gifts every birthday and Yule, but I haven’t seen or talked to him since Grandfather Seamus’s funeral.”

“When was that?”

“Three years ago.”

“And you haven’t seen him since then?” 

“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t.” 

“Think he’s here to take you home?” 

It wasn’t Aydan who answered his question but Bobby, who returned with a bunch of packages and a small suitcase he set on the floor.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be wise for her uncle to take her home.” 

Dean swung his gaze to Bobby. “Why not?” 

“Kid ain’t got a home.” 

“Who doesn't have a home?” Dad asked as he joined Bobby in the doorway.  

“Aydan.” The look Bobby sent Dad was grim. “House got burned to the ground.” 

Dad ran a hand over his face. “When?”

“Sometime after midnight is her uncle’s best guess.” Bobby turned to head into the kitchen. “When the 911 calls came in, anyway.”

“What about her aunts and the rest of her family?” 

Bobby got two beers from the fridge. “In hiding.” He walked back and handed one of the bottles to Dad. “Figure it’s best given what’s going on.”

“What about Aydan?” Dad popped the cap off the bottle but didn’t raise it to his lips. “What’re they going to do with her? She’s who the son of a bitch is after.”

“Gonna put her into hiding.” Bobby took a long swallow of beer. “Only thing to do at this point.”

“Where are they sending her?”

“I don’t know.” Bobby heaved a sigh. “All her uncle would say is that he’s contacted someone to come and get her.” 

“Someone?” Suspicion darkened Dad’s face. “Who? He bother giving you a name?” 

“Yup, he did.” Bobby took another pull from the bottle. “Thomas Cain.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Sammy got a present as promised but it didn't come from the yellow-eyed man. The Transformer action figures made his brother forget all about him. Dean thought the action figures were pretty cool, too. Course, he didn't let his brother know that. Not that he needed too. Sammy figured it out for himself and shared the figures with him.

For the next week and a half, everything remained calm. Well, if one didn't count the occasional howls from the hellhound on guard patrol. Even Ramsey quieted when it became obvious the yellow-eyed man wasn't gonna try to approach Bobby's. She still honked occasionally, though. Dad and Bobby learned to read her vocalizations by recording them and playing them back on an old tape recorder Bobby found in a drawer.

Long howls, they said when Dean asked about 'em, warned about something being close. More guttural ones indicated something was on the property that she was hunting. Shorter, higher pitched barks they decided were her way of reminding them she was keeping watch.

Not like anybody could forget there was an invisible hound from hell outside.

Dean didn't know if they were right. He didn't care. Long as Ramsey was out there, Sammy was safe. Even Bobby believed that the reason for why the yellow-eyed man hadn't tried to get to Sammy was because of Ramsey. They'd talked about it after Aydan and Sammy went to sleep the other night.

"Why?" Dad questioned as he covered Sammy with a blanket. "I thought she's supposed to protect Aydan."

"She is."

"Then why do you think she's protecting Sammy?" Dad looked at Bobby. "Not that I'm not appreciative or anything. I just don't understand why."

"Long as Aydan is here and in danger that hellhound won't let anything in here that she perceives as a threat."

"You make the damn thing sound like a German Shepherd or Doberman."

"More like a demonic pit bull."

Dad arched an eyebrow. "What's the difference?"

"Hellhounds have jaws of death. They sink their teeth into you, it's over. You're good as demonic puppy chow." Bobby got up and moved to the window when a soft growl rattled the glass. "They won't stop until either they or whoever they're after is dead."

"Or unless whoever sent them calls them off."

Bobby walked to the coffee pot placed on a small table by the bookshelf. "Any demon can send a hellhound," he said as he poured coffee into a mug, "but they only have one master."

"And hers is Lucifer."

"Mhm," was the last thing Dean heard before falling asleep.

It was now four days before Christmas. There was no sign of this Cain fella that Aydan's uncle told Bobby would come to get her. Dean wasn't rightly sure if he wanted the man to show up. Girls, he had decided after much thought, changed people. Made them a bit better. Got them to try harder. How, why, he didn't know.

He just knew he liked how things were.

Dad still fixated on hunting down the thing that killed Mom. Dean doubted that anything would stop him from getting revenge on the thing that took her away from them. He hadn't been drinking as much or as often. He hadn't looked for things to hunt or asked Bobby if there was anything going on. He hadn't yelled at him as much for either saying something stupid or doing something stupid.

He even smiled more.

Not a lot and not like he did when Mom was alive, but it was more than usual.

Dad even helped hang some of the ornaments and things Aydan helped Sammy make from yarn and construction paper. Snowflakes in different sizes and shapes, streamers made from braided yarn and construction paper, candy canes, elf shoes, and snowmen made from cotton balls hung around the living room. There was even a construction paper wreath on the front door with a sprig of mistletoe hanging its giant red bow.

Bobby drug out an old fake tree stored down in the basement along with a bunch of ornaments and lights. He set the small tree on a table he cleared off and the box in front of it before telling them to, "knock themselves silly."

Dean hadn't wanted to let himself get caught up in the preparations. There was no way they were gonna celebrate two holidays in a row as a family. That'd be too much to hope for. The more time that passed, though, the more Dean started to believe that they were actually gonna celebrate Christmas.

It was some sort of miracle.

There was no other logical explanation for it.

The only cloud hanging over their Merry Christmas was the chain of events that started the day before yesterday. First, the microwave went kablooey as they popped a bag of popcorn. Then the washing machine started to spit out sudsy water while the refrigerator started making an odd growling noise. Last night, the water heater and the power upstairs went out. And finally, as if things weren't already weird enough, they woke to find that a pipe burst under the sink and flooded the kitchen.

Dean imagined if it wasn't for bad luck, they'd have no luck at all.

Dad remained at the house while Bobby went into town to get a water heater and the things they needed to fix the power and sink. The washing machine and refrigerator received an exorcism. Well, what Bobby called an exorcism. Dean had read about exorcisms in Dad's journal. The words Bobby said didn't sound anything like the  _Rituale Romanum_  Dad copied down. Still, it was funny watching him do the ritual, real or not.

While Bobby was in town, and Sammy was coloring a picture of Santa in the front room, he and Aydan mopped up the flood of the water.

"Did the pipe burst 'cause of the cold?" Dean asked as he wrung his mop out in a bucket. "Or is it just old?"

"The cold likely didn't help." Dad stifled a curse as he worked on loosening a fitting. "But the pipe needed replacing. It's been leaking for a while from the looks of it."

"It's a curse," Aydan said as she finished mopping her section of the floor. "A witch has placed a hex on this house."

"A witch?" Dad angled his head to look at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I know witches, Mr. Winchester."

"How do you know it's a witch?" Dad asked as he went back to work. "Is there a way to tell?"

Dean pictured Witch Hazel or the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz instead of Samantha from Bewitched in his mind.

"It's in the things that have happened." Aydan looked at the busted microwave. "A hex is the only thing that explains why so many things have gone wrong."

"Well, old things break or need to be replaced."

"Things were fine until I came here," she said bitterly. "All that's happened is 'cause of me."

"You're not to blame for what happened."

"Who is then?"

"Your father." Dad's voice was rock steady. However, Dean had heard that tone enough to know Dad was pissed. "He's the one behind all this."

"And has now set a witch on you." Her mouth turned down at the corners. "That's what happened to your car until I fixed it."

"You fixed the Impala?" Dad looked at her quizzically. "How?"

"I removed the hex bag from under your seat and burned it."

"How'd you know that'd work?"

"Aunt Raelin showed me."

"She's a witch?"

"The first guardians were the first witches," Aydan told him. "The majority of the spells, incantations, and rituals used today are passed down from them."

"Is that how you made those lights explode in the mini-mart?" Dean couldn't stop himself from asking. "You used magic?"

She turned wide eyes to him. "You knew I did that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Duh."

"But..." Her brow puckered. "How?"

"You started to glow right before the bulbs blew out."

"I did what?"

"Glowed." He took the mop from her and returned it to the utility closet along with his. "Like a big lightbulb."

She looked at him skeptically. "I did  _not_  glow like a lightbulb."

"Uh-huh," he said as Dad inched out from beneath the sink. "You totally did."

She picked up the wet towels and carried them into the laundry room. Not that they could wash them with the water being off.

"I didn't know I glowed when I use my gift."

"Really?" Dean didn't see how she  _couldn't_  know.

"Mm-mm, no."

"But when you use it..."

"I'm not supposed to use it unless it's necessary."

"Why not?"

Because if he had abilities like she did, he'd use 'em to help Dad find the thing that killed Mom and destroy it.

"Because power like Aydan has comes with great responsibility," Dad said as he placed the old pipe and fittings into a box. "It's not something she can abuse."

Dean frowned. "'Cause there'd be consequences if she did?"

"Magic has a price." Aydan moved to the kitchen table and took a seat. "What you do is always returned threefold."

"But you're the guardian of fire."

"And that makes the consequences more."

"Man, that's a rip."

"It's something all guardians accept when they become guardians."

"You don't become guardians when you're born?" Dad leaned back against the cabinets. "It's something passed down?"

"The next guardian is chosen before birth." Her lips curved at the corners. "They're almost always the firstborn daughter."

"Almost always?" Dean's brow lifted. "What's that mean?"

"Well, there have been twins born to guardians," she said. "Each was a guardian."

"Of the same element?"

"No." She shook her head. "Aunt Raelin is guardian of water while my aunt Moira is guardian of air."

"Who is guardian of Earth?"

"My aunt, Fiona."

Dean scratched his nose. "Do all guardians have Irish names?"

"No." Her eyes twinkled with a mixture of amusement and mischief. "They're not all Irish."

He was about to ask more but a knock at the door stopped the words from leaving his mouth. Dean glanced at Dad, saw he was looking towards the door with a mixture of irritation, concern, and interest.

"You two go in the other room," he ordered. "Watch Sammy. I'll handle this."

"Yeah, Dad, sure."

It wasn't like he had to ask twice.

...

Christmas morning brought snow, presents, and Sammy waking him before dawn by jumping on top of him and proclaiming, "Dean, it's Christmas!"

"I know it's Christmas, Sammy." Dean pushed his brother off him a groan. "Geez, why do you gotta be such a dexter?"

Sam giggled. "What's a detser?"

"It's you, duh." Dean squinted at him. "Now, lay back down."

Sammy refused, of course. "But it's Christmas!"

"So?" The room was still dark, save for the nightlight Sammy insisted on. It meant the hour was still way too early for them to get up. "It's still gonna be Christmas in a couple of hours." He flopped over onto his stomach. "Go back to sleep."

"But Santa came last night!" Sammy's tone was that cross between whine and plea. "He brung us presents!"

Hearing how there were presents waiting for them downstairs tempted Dean to crawl out from beneath his warm covers. Unlike his brother, who still believed in Santa and the Easter Bunny, Dean knew there was no big fat guy wearing a red suit delivering Christmas presents to good boys and girls.

He didn't know when Dad had the time to go shopping. Not with everything that had happened since Thanksgiving. Curiosity about what he got them tickled at his sleepiness. A look at the clock on the nightstand convinced him to stay right where he was.

"It's four-thirty," he grumbled as he scooted farther beneath the thick blankets. "We can open presents later."

_Much later_ , he added as he closed his eyes. If there was one thing about his brother, it was that he didn't give up. Not when he set his mind to something. He shook him until Dean muttered one of Dad's favorite curse words and rolled over again to glare at him.

"Dean, please!"

"Dad and Bobby aren't even awake yet." He looked to his left to see Aydan watching quietly from her bed. "And Dad's gonna be real mad if you wake him up this early to open presents."

"But I wanna see what we got!"

"Sammy..."

"Dean,  _please_!"

Dean sent a beseeching look at Aydan.  _Help_ , he mouthed. She gave a subtle nod of her head and scooted towards the end of her bed.

"Sammy, if you crawl back under the covers with Dean, I'll tell you all I know about Saint Nicholas."

"Saint Nicholas?" Sammy frowned. "Is he like Santa Claus?"

"Well, some say that he  _is_  Santa Claus."

"Really?" Interest flickered on Sammy's face. "Why they think that?"

"Lay back down and I'll tell you."

Sammy scrambled under the covers without any further protest. Dean gave Aydan a grateful look. She just smiled and mouthed,  _cousins_. So, that explained why she got how annoying and obnoxious younger kids were. On Christmas and all other times.

"Okay," Sam said once he was comfortable. "I'm laying down. Tell me 'bout Nicholas."

"Well, many say Saint Nicholas was actually a bishop who lived a long, long time ago."

"A bifhop?"

"Mhm, a bishop. One with a very generous heart who liked giving to people in need. There was just one thing..."

She let her voice trail off.  _The mark of a storyteller_ , he thought as he stifled a yawn. Giving just enough of the tale to draw Sammy in. Keep him interested.  _And let me sleep for another hour_.

"What?" His brother squirmed with anticipation. "What, Aydan?"

"He always did it in secret."

"Just like Santa!"

"Just like Santa." She agreed with a smile. "There's even a story that tells how the custom of hanging stockings to put candy and toys in started."

"Does it have reindeer in it?" Sam asked eagerly. "And elves? And Mrs. Claus?"

"No, this story is before he got his reindeer or met his elves and Mrs. Claus."

Sammy let out a little gasp. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Tell me it, please?"

"Sure." Aydan adjusted her blankets before started the tale. "There once was a poor man with three daughters..."

Dean found himself asleep before she got to the next sentence.

...

He woke just as the sun was rising. Part of Dean felt guilty for having stuck Aydan with keeping Sammy quiet so he could catch a couple more hours of sleep. The other part figured it was a fair trade since he stayed up super late keeping watch. Dad laughing downstairs pulled him from beneath his warm covers. He made his way downstairs, moving quietly because he feared Dad would stop laughing soon as he saw him.

"Dean!" Sammy raced towards him soon as he saw him. "Look! Santa ate the cookies we put out for him!"

Dean didn't have the heart to tell him that Dad and Bobby ate the cookies.  _Let him believe in Santa for as long as possible_ , he thought as he padded over to the couch and took a seat beside Aydan.  _He'll learn he ain't real soon enough_.

"Why don't you boys tear into your stockings?" Dad suggested. "You can open the rest once Bobby and I get some coffee into us."

It wasn't like he had to tell them twice. Sammy tore into his stocking with a loud whoop. Dean managed to contain his excitement and dug out the things in his stocking without dumping them all over the floor. There were thick pieces of fudge wrapped in plastic wrap and tied with gold ribbon, candy canes, and the usual stuff like bags of army men, hot wheels, and mini-Lego kits.

Sam's stocking also contained coloring books and crayons while he had comics, a flashlight on a rope, and a small knife in a leather sheath. The knife fascinated him the most. Dean studied the design carved into the handle. It wasn't like anything he'd seen in Dad's journal.

"It's the Celtic shield." Dean turned curious eyes to her. "It helps ward off evil and protects one from those that mean them harm."

"You gave me this?" At her nod, he asked one question, "Why?"

"It will help protect you and Sammy from what's out there."

From what's out there. That bit of code was easy to translate:  _Monsters_. If anyone knew about the monsters out there, it was Aydan. _That's why she suggested getting books on witches, spells, and incantations_ , he thought as he looked back at the knife.  _She understands what's out there and already been taught ways to protect herself_. Still, he felt guilty she had given him something and he had nothing to give her. Not that it mattered to her.

"Nollaig Shona Duit, Dean."

"Uh, that means Merry Christmas, right?"

She giggled. "Yes, it means Merry Christmas."

Dad and Bobby joined them after some not subtle prompting from Sammy.

"Start with the small boxes," Dad said as he sat in a chair. "They're from Bobby."

Wasn't like he needed to tell Sammy twice. Wrapping gifts wasn't something either he or Bobby normally did. Dean suspected Aydan of doing it. Especially since the silver paper was neatly folded around the box and the red ribbon perfectly tied. Not that it stayed that way long. Sammy happily played with his new fire engine while Dean thumbed through his comics. It was by far the best Christmas ever.

And to top it off?

Aydan made those fancy pancakes of hers for breakfast.

With the cinnamon apples.

Nothing could be better.

…

Dean was wrong, of course. Pancakes with cinnamon apples weren't the best thing about that day. No, the best thing happened when they were helping carry in some firewood. It started simply with Sammy throwing snow at him while he was stacking logs to carry inside.

"Hey, cut it out."

Sammy just giggled and picked up another handful of snow that he threw at him. They were soon engaged in a snowball fight.

"Boys," Dad said with a moderate amount of amusement. "Let's get the logs and get them inside before the snow returns."

Dean didn't know what exactly prompted him to toss the snowball in his hand at him. He expected a stern reprimand soon as it hit Dad in the back. What he didn't expect was getting pelted in kind. Sure, they ended up colder than the snow they made balls from but the hot cocoa waiting when they finally trudged inside more than made up for it.

Dean couldn't stop grinning. The only thing that'd have made the day better was Mom being there. They'd just be a normal family celebrating Christmas. Maybe Dad would still hunt the things out there, but he'd smile and laugh as he used too. Maybe they'd live somewhere nearby so they could visit Bobby whenever they wanted. Maybe they'd have more perfect Christmases.

Maybe they'd be happy.

Christmas dinner consisted of baked ham, roasted and mashed potatoes, stuffing, steamed vegetables, cranberry sauce, and freshly baked rolls.

And cooling on the counter?

_Pies_.

She made an apple and a cherry this time.

"Well, kiddo," Bobby said once the dishes were done and they were all seated comfortably in the living room. "You've certainly outdone yourself tonight."

Her dimples winked as she smiled.

"That job still open?"

"You betcha."

Sammy giggled as he pushed one of his hot wheels over a strip of track he made from construction paper. "We can have cake for breakfast!"

"That was something special for Christmas, Sammy," Dad said. "It's not for all the time."

Sammy heaved a disappointed sigh that summed up how Dean felt. Pie for breakfast worked for him. It was better tasting than oatmeal and not dry like the pieces of French toast a few of the schools he attended served for breakfast.

"Can we have cake for breakfast on Dean's birthday?"

"We'll see." Dad smiled and reached for the beer next to him. "Maybe we'll have digested dinner by then and want cake for breakfast."

It was as close to a joke as Dean heard Dad make since Mom died. The change in him, in all of them, could only be because of Aydan.  _Girls_ , he thought again as Sammy made  _vroom vroom_  sounds,  _definitely change people._

And he was ridiculously happy about it. Aydan — without knowing she did it or doing anything special to encourage it — gave him and his brother the best thing for Christmas: their dad. Today was a day he'd treasure. Like he did the few memories he still had of Mom before the thing took her from them.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" Dean asked her as Dad and Bobby started to discuss cars. "Your aunts?"

She nodded. "And my grandmother."

He slanted a look at her. "The one that's...?"

He let the question hang because Sammy was in the room. He could hear what they said about death and question it. Dad tried once to explain death to Sammy, but he didn't understand it. Not like Dean did. His brother didn't think of Mom as dead. No, to Sammy, Mom's being dead just meant she wasn't there. She wasn't real to him. Not like she was to him and Dad. Or like Aydan's grandmother and aunts were to her.

"My family always cooked together," she said as Sammy slammed Megatron down upon his hot wheels. "Especially at Thanksgiving and Christmas when it took many elves in the kitchen to see to it that our rather large clan was fed."

"But not this year."

He didn't add why that was. She didn't need him reminding her about her family being dead and in hiding from her father and the yellow-eyed man.

"What do you mean not this year?"

"Well, you didn't cook with them this year."

"Who says I didn't?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"You mean you cooked with them before the holidays?"

"No." She shook her head. "I mean today. Who says I didn't cook with them today?"

"Well..." He frowned his confusion. "'Cause of everything going on."

Realization dawned on her face as she figured out what he meant.

"Oh, Dean... they're always with me." She laid a hand over her heart. "They're right here. Where nobody can take them from me."

Like nobody could take Mom away, he realized then. So long as he remembered her, she'd always be with him.

"Why don't you three watch some television?" Dad suggested. "Bobby and I have a few things..."

A knock on the door ended whatever he was about to say.

"Wonder who'n hell that can be," Bobby murmured as he exchanged a look with Dad. "Bit late for company."

"Maybe it's the man who Aydan's uncle said would be coming to get her."

"Could be." Bobby shoved to his feet. "That hellhound ain't howling her full head off so whoever the hell it is must not be a threat to the kid."

"Should still keep our guards up."

"Right."

Dad looked at them as Bobby left the room. "Take your brother and Aydan upstairs," he ordered in that drill sergeant tone that meant business. "Stay there until I call you back down."

"Yes, sir."

"And Dean?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"You know what to do."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, Dad, I know what to do."

_Watch out for Sammy_. That order never changed. Not that Dad really needed to give it to him.

"Go on now."

They left the room without another word. Dean was just reaching the top of the stairs when Bobby opened the door. Before he could say anything, a deep voice said, "My name is Thomas Cain." Dean glanced over his shoulder but all he saw was a tallish man in heavy winter gear standing in the doorway. "I believe you're expecting me."


	7. Chapter 7

Dean didn't know it, not at that time, anyway, but Thomas Cain was really Cain. As in firstborn son of Adam and Eve, older brother of Abel, Father of Murder, and most powerful, feared demon in the world,  _Cain_. He had no clue who the man who came to take Aydan somewhere safe was until he sat across from him in his living room twenty-six years later.

If he had known that  _Thomas Cain_  and  _Cain_  were the same man, well, maybe he'd have thought longer and harder about taking the mark from him.

Dean didn't say anything about Cain coming to Bobby's that Christmas to take Aydan and hide her where nobody could find her. Not with Crowley sitting there beside him and likely to use the information to feather his own nest. Aydan had no business in the fight with Abaddon and her minions. She risked enough when she tried to help him, Sam, Bobby, and Cas stop the Apocalypse.

Cain acknowledged his choice to remain silent with a slight nod of his head and a faint smile. Like him, he knew that right then wasn't the time for them to discuss Aydan. Not with Dean hunting the First Blade so he could gank that bitch, Abaddon, once and for all. He hadn't retrieved the blade as he and Crowley planned, but he left Cain's farm one step closer to it than he had been.

And unleashed the deadliest demon to ever walk the face of the earth. A man Crowley claimed in a trembling voice, "Killed thousands."

Cain came to him a few days after he accepted the mark. "You have to learn how to control it, Dean," he advised. "Otherwise, it will corrupt you as it has everyone else who has borne it."

"Yeah, well, long as I can kill that bitch, I don't care what happens to me."

"And what about Aydan?"

"She's not involved in this."

"Neither was Colette," Cain pointed out with a sad smile. "And Abaddon involved her to get back at me for leaving the order."

"She won't get near Aydan." He'd make sure of that. "She won't touch her."

"The mark carries a great burden, Dean. Aydan calls it a great cost. Much like her power bears a great cost for her anytime she uses it."

"You saying that she can suffer because I have the mark?"

"I'm saying you need to be wise in your choices." Cain folded his arms across his chest. "What you do now could place her in danger. Don't forget that her father still wants to kill her so he can free my brother, Abel, from his cage."

"I won't let that happen," he swore. "I won't let anything harm her."

"See that you don't."

He didn't harm Aydan while under the influence of the mark, and he didn't let her father kill her, but he did hurt her when he took out Cain. Aydan told him she accepted what happened as a necessity. Dean could tell things were different between them. There hadn't been time to repair the rift between them, though. Not when he managed to ice the Reaper, release the Darkness, and almost get the entire planet nuked just months after stopping Abbadon.

Things didn't slow down after they convinced Amara to not go through with her plans. The Men of Letters, Lucifer… it was just one thing after another. He managed to find a moment after getting out of the Bad Place to call her. Just to hear her voice, he told her. She understood it was his way of saying he was sorry for everything that happened with Cain, for the rift it created between them, for the time they lost.

That he missed her.

"Come to New Orleans," she had entreated. "Have Christmas with me and the family. They'd love to finally meet you and Sammy."

"Yeah, uh, I don't think Sam'll go for it."

"Why not?"

"Sam doesn't necessarily believe in celebrating Christmas."

He didn't tell her that the only Christmas he and Sammy celebrated after Dad died was during his last — well, so he thought at the time — year on Earth. Even then, it wasn't perfect. His impending fate as a hellhound's chew toy kinda stole some of the cheer out of the holiday. After that? Well, they just kinda gave up on celebrating things like birthdays and holidays. There didn't seem any point.

Not with the Winchester curse in full effect.

"Why not?"

"Well, because the only really happy Christmas we have ever had was the one with you."

_That's it!_  Excitement streaked through him as the answer for how to break the Winchester curse came to him.  _Aydan's what me and Sam need! She's the answer!_

A glance at the clock on the wall showed the time was just a little before eight. She lived on the outskirts of New Orleans.  _That's only about thirty, thirty-five miles from here_ , he reasoned.  _We could be there by nine, nine-thirty at the latest._

Just in time for pie.

His mouth watered as he imagined apple pies with crumb toppings and cherry with flaky crusts that'd melt in his mouth. Dean swung his feet to the floor, his exhaustion forgotten, and his flagging spirits bolstered at the thought of seeing Aydan again.

"Hey, Sammy?" He reached for his wallet and keys. "You up for a road trip?"

"We're on a road trip, Dean." Sam stuck his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, and a slight frown puckering the skin between his eyes. "Remember? We're searching for a weapon or something that can help us against Michael?"

"Yeah, but we're an hour away from New Orleans."

"New Orleans?" Sam blinked in confusion. "What's in New Orleans that can't possibly wait until after we stop Michael?"

"Aydan," he said as he reached for his coat. "Aydan's in New Orleans."

"Aydan?" Sam heaved a sigh and withdrew into the bathroom. "Dean, look..."

"Sam, it's Christmas."

"So?"

"So, it's Aydan."

"And?" Sam exited the bathroom. "I haven't seen her in years, Dean. Neither have you."

"Yeah, uh, about that." Dean fidgeted slightly. "We sorta made it a thing to see or call each other once a year after Cas brought her to see me in the hospital." At Sam's questioning look he explained, "It was after Alastair beat the crap out of me. We sorta… uh… kept in touch after that."

Surprise and a minuscule sliver of hurt flickered across Sam's face. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to see her?"

"Look, man, it wasn't that I was trying to keep it from you."

"No?" The ring of hurt in Sam's voice made him feel lower than dirt. "Then what was it?"

"It was our thing." Dean squirmed seeing the look on Sam's face. "It was just our way of checking in with each other and letting the other know we were okay."

_It was our time to just be_ , he added silently. That one day a year they spent together was the only time where he was able to just be himself. He wasn't that Winchester boy. John's son. Sammy's big brother. Meatsuit of an angelic douchebag. He was just himself. For twenty-four hours, Dean allowed himself the one thing he didn't all the other hours of the year:  _happiness_.

He hadn't allowed himself to have that happiness since the night he killed Cain.

He didn't deserve it in his mind.

"And you haven't gone to see her," Sam guessed. "Not since you killed Cain. Am I right?"

"I didn't go to see her because of everything else that happened, too."

_"_ With Amara, the Men of Letters, Lucifer, Jack, Mom?"

"Yeah." Dean curled his fingers tighter around the keys to Baby. "I didn't wanna risk her getting caught up in this crap with Michael."

_I was afraid he'd go after her and kill her to break me_. He didn't tell his brother that, though. He didn't need too. He could tell by the softening of Sam's eyes that he figured out that was the reason why.

"Think we can talk her into making pancakes?" Sam's lips crooked upwards. "With them cinnamon apples?"

"And pie." A grin spread across Dean's face. "Don't forget the pie."


End file.
